No Longer a Stolen Moment
by stargazer84
Summary: Neville could zoom in on one girl from the crowd who was bubbling with nervousness as she danced in a stiff manner with an equally unnerved boy. The girl's face was a soft and simple one with an unmasked beauty that you would find on the face of the girl next door and not on the cover of some fashion magazine.


A/N: A Au-ish N/Hr story. Quite fluffy... I originally thought of writing this as a D/Hr, but Neville fit in this story better. As always, I do not own anything! Enjoy!

No Longer A Stolen Moment

It was already growing dark when Neville approached the Great Hall. The black tuxedo he wore was a soft charcoal black with a white undershirt and a neatly tied black bow. He was very well dressed, though his face mirrored a sorrow that trailed deep like a vein into his core that bubbled with regret as a volcanic vein might with magma. He exhaled softly as he took another step closer.

His attention turned to the sky beyond the windows that was strangely calmed. The sun was setting now, and as it did the colors blended to a great symphony of hue. Golds and reds danced against one another in a soft swirling battle of heavens. The gold shimmered upon the horizon like molten flame and hung there in a soft luminance that took the breath away. The next color was the reds as the spectrum changed from a gentle pink to a rich and vibrant rose tint that whisked downward into the golden light. Gradually the colors changed to a soft violet and then to a soft pastel blue. The night was advancing slowly upon the sky, but in that last battle of day and night the most breathtaking beauty was found.

He turned his attention back down to the ground that was glistening as silver from the afternoon shower that had now passed away. The road was bathed in golds and silvers from the sunset and the moon which was now pooled its light upon the shimmering sidewalks. The grounds had been transformed before his eyes. Neville smiled for no other reason than being where he was, watching the beauty radiate outward from the one source he knew to be loveliness incarnate.

The door to the Great Hall clicked and then opened to reveal Harry and Ginny.

"Is Hermione almost done getting ready? She's going to make us all-" Neville paused as he turned to the stairwell only to find Hermione slowly descending.

Neville felt his jaw drop and his eyes bug out as he looked at her. She wore a rose-red dress that slit down the leg and accentuated the elegant curve of her waist. Neville smiled brightly as she descended the stairs and looked at him. He was sure that there was drool on his lips and that his eyes were as big as saucers.

The dress cut off at her bust in a curve that made Neville feel light headed. The fabric flowed on her as though it had been tailor made to her. Her face glowed in that smile as she grinned at Neville through her red lips which shimmered like wine. Her hair was pulled back, leaving only bangs of her once frizzy chocolate hair. She wore white flowers in her hair that fit her in a way Neville knew all too well. Some girls were made for jewelry or adornments, but not Hermione. She was beautiful without trinkets to clutter her elegance. The flowers fit though. They were simple and white, yet prettier than diamonds spun upon silver thread. She was the girl he knew and the woman who he had never seen. She looked mature and graceful. The essence of angels hung upon her like the fragrant scent of jasmine and rose.

"Neville! You did come!" She bounded to him in three steps that were more leaps of joy. He laughed wholeheartedly as he scrutinized her. She burst into laughter as she hugged him tightly. He spun her three times before setting her down.

"You look beautiful Hermione." He smiled as he breathed in the floral scent he had secretly become addicted to. Something between roses and vanilla that sent shivers down his spine. Hermione laughed happily as he relinquished his grip. She smiled as she adjusted the trim of his suit. It felt stuffy, but as Hermione adjusted it the straitjacket as he had called it earlier felt comfortable and strangely warm.

"Neville... you look great. You even got that hair of yours trained. Did you lose the comb?"

"That's very funny. But seriously, you're breath taking Hermione." He breathed the words out softly as he felt his breathing draw to a whisper. Her hand was running through his hair softly. He grew silent as she continued to stroke the soft hair. Each touch from her to him was like a nuclear reaction that exploded through every cell in his body. He felt a strange heat radiate through him as he closed his eyes. Hermione was either unaware of the effect she had or it was a mutual one since she too was now engulfed in. She continued running her fingers through his hair, then down the side of his face to the suit. Her soft touch slipped inside the black jacket that hung open. It trailed up to his chest and then to his side as the illusion of fixing wrinkles faded away slowly.

The moment was broken by the arrival of their friends as Hermione pulled away like Neville had shocked her. She had a slight blush on her cheeks as Neville chuckled nervously. His hands went to his hair and began straightening more from nerves then from necessity. They had lost themselves in a moment.

Neville felt a slow throb in his chest as she rushed off to greet the others. That pain worsened to a screaming wound as he saw Ron bound down the stairs in a tux and pull Hermione into a kiss. Neville cut his eyes away as Hermione responded with enthusiasm to the ministrations from Ron's lips. He grimaced in searing pain as he heard her murmur how much she loved him through the ruffled sound of fabric. She awed as he slipped the corsage onto her wrist. It was cheap of course. Probably cost more than he could afford to buy her, but that was Ron. Best he could for the girl whom he loved and who loved him back with equal enthusiasm. The sounds were all detected easily from Neville's cursed ears. He heard every murmur made by either of the two.

Ron was whispering about how beautiful she was, how much he loved her and a few comments about how he wanted her. They were spoken softly, spoken in a language of murmurs, but Neville heard it all. He knew Hermione hadn't taken that step with Ron yet. Somehow he knew, though he didn't know how he knew. It was simply a feeling he had deep inside that Hermione would wait for some special occasion. He tried to forget that it was their Seventh Year Ball and that was one of the more special occasions in the lives of any romantic couple. Neville felt his stomach twist inside the stuffy shirt as he fought back a wave of bile that ran to his throat.

He didn't stay to greet Ron or the others who were now filtering inside the hall. He instead made the well-known trek to the drink table where he filled a glass with water and held the cool cup in his hand. He studied the translucent liquid intently as small bubbles came unclasped to the wall of the cup and made a journey to the surface where they vanished into the air. He brought it to his lips and drank slowly as he washed the bile taste from his mouth. He drank slowly as he stared into the darkened expanses of the hall. He had a lot of memories from this place. Good memories of himself and the tiny girl with the brown hair and sunny laugh that no one else knew about.

Now he had a new memory of an event in this place, a sad one. He shuddered lightly as the act shook the thought from his mind. He didn't want to remember some things. Though what he wanted no longer mattered. He would recall this night for a long time. Recall the sound of Hermione's happy voice as Ron touched her. He knew it wasn't right for him to be here. It was a place that was for lovers. He was here because she asked him to be here. It hurt him to be trapped with them here.

He would be the only one without a date. That bothered him. He had options of course. But no one girl could stand in comparison to Hermione. How can you look on the face of an angel and then find beauty in the face of a mere human. He would not see their beauty or their allure. He would see all the things that they were not, yet Hermione was. He could never touch one of them for that would be betraying his heart. That love he had inside was all he had left. That image of Hermione which he could cast in a thousand romances inside his mind. He could live with that. That phantom girl paled when held against the real Hermione. He was helpless...

How they moved, like a swelling sea of formal wear they crashed against each other in an ordered discord. The tide was composed of paired off couples each moving to their own dance. Though from Neville's vantage point in the back he could distinguish a pattern of advancements followed by a significant regression as the tide of dancers flowed like the frothed waves of the ocean. The music was soft yet pronounced as it wafted over the air like a fog that was both thick enough to be easily noted and yet thin and wispy enough to not overpower the situation. It had the vague aura of country music though it lacked the pronounced twang that often repelled so many who were not avid fans of that genre.

The soft vocals were well done by the voice of a woman who to Neville was nameless, as was the song. He simply absorbed the music with a critical edge. The voice was a gentle one with no sharp rift that cut the air. The tones she used could be loud and pronounced, but they never were forceful to the listener. They were more a passive tone with a great feeling behind them. The chorus repeated with growing feeling as the song's conclusion loomed ever closer. The music seemed to solidify from a wispy haze to a more pronounced fog as the dancers responded in that subtle way music can make a dancer respond. The couples swayed ever more closely as the love song resonated through the large hall that was serving as the ball. Neville had given up on the lyrics for they didn't appeal to him as much as the tune had. He simply hung near the wall as he surveyed the dance like a gargoyle may survey the festivities below his perch on the rain-weathered ledge of an ancient cathedral.

He had made no real effort to dance or even to assault the buffet that was located on the other side of the dance floor. He simply watched in a manner that eluded some. Few people can understand the bittersweet pleasure of watching the world from your place in the shadow of it all. To be able study the unwitting world from your hiding place beyond their spectrum of attention. From your silent spire you can observe the faintest wisp of emotion in the face of a person who was not trying to put up an emotional shield of some form.

Neville could zoom in on one girl from the crowd who was bubbling with nervousness as she danced in a stiff manner with an equally unnerved boy. The girl's face was a soft and simple one with an unmasked beauty that you would find on the face of the girl next door and not on the cover of some fashion magazine. She had soft cinnamon-brown hair with green eyes that looked more like the color of a smooth emerald which knew no jeweler's saw. The shimmering jade eyes fixed upon her partners who was holding a false security as a shield of bravado. He was just as nervous around this girl as she was to him. But Ron hid his insecurity behind a stolid mask.

He was trying to look so serious and secure, though it was clear to the watchful eyes of Neville that he was blushed a fiery pink in spite of his best efforts. The girl was special to him... important in a way Neville could understand so clearly, yet those mere feet away could not. It was a vague whisper of unrequited love blended with a friendship that Neville could sympathize with all too easily. The boy's golden eyes sparkled with laughter as whatever she was saying affected him in a relaxing and pleasurable manner. Most likely she was making a faint joke over someone here or some random antic with her face which was now turned away as the dance progressed in the turning and crashing wave fashion that it had since he began watching. The boy's face was transformed as he smiled at her. Stolid became warm and emotion-filled as he remained fixed on the jaded eyes of the girl with the slight cherry-blush on her pale cheeks.

Neville had watched the two for some time now. In the very beginning the two had seemed so awkward that he figured they wouldn't be able to slow dance if there was a wand held to them by some dance teacher gone insane who was only sparing those who could waltz from the weapon's wrath. But as Neville watched he saw the vague and cannibalistic change in them take hold in a slow evolution. They grew closer with each hour and had slowly made their way from two nervous friends to two shaky dancers who were looking more like a romantic pair then not. He imagined that given time the two would be at complete ease with one another before the night had ended. He assumed that by the last dance of the night he would be witnessing a complete metamorphosis between them. The doors would open to them and from that threshold they would step out two parts of a whole. Friendship is often a stepping stone to love, and by that same measure the more profound the friendship the more rich the love would be. Neville felt a certain kinship to these two children as he watched from the shadowy alcove. They were to him a 'might have been' in his own life. At some point they had spoken and thus ended the silence between them and opened a door that would lead them someplace good.

As hard as it is to believe, it is true that silence is the most destructive sound that ever was. Far more than even the harshest of words a silence can topple an empire or destroy a life. Neville knew this all too well. A marriage can end in divorce if a silence is allowed to take root and grow. What marriage can exist if the simple phrase ' I love you' is lost to silence? Not saying what you feel is a fast road to heartache. Of this simple lesson Neville Longbottom was fluent. He had lost the love of his life to silence, and as he watched the two dance, he was filled with a bittersweet happiness for them that they had not fallen into the same pit-trap which he had stumbled.

Understanding is often a matter of perspective. When you are too close, you are unable to comprehend the full aspect of a situation. But from a distance that same problem looks more comparable and easily solved. To understand one must simply find a better vantage point. Neville looked down from his vantage point with a sad smile as his eyes moved from the young couple to the girl.

She was bathed in azure blue light as she danced under the spotlight which happened to be directed upon her. Her skin shimmered in the strange light in a way that enticed the silent observer. He looked on with a faint lustfulness as he watched her dance to the new song. This song was no longer the somber tones of a gentle feminine vocal. It was now a more modern rock song with a faint twist of gothic tone. It was a very un-romantic music but it somehow worked for Hermione as she swayed to the chords of the guitar which mingled with the pulsing base and throbbing drum. The music was faintly eerie and even more pronounced to a darker side of life. He studied her with the same fascination one might pay a female vampire who came out of the night as a seductive figure.

He chuckled as that word came to mind. He had known Hermione as a kind of sister at times, though that faded to very un-sisterly feelings. More she was a friend, or the fiery angel who haunted his dreams. Hermione could also take another form when called upon. The most seductive form Neville could ever put to words. She swayed to the music with her hands in a constantly traveling in a captivating manner over her silken red dress and into the air in a pose that made her look so far from a heaven spawned angel. She rocked softly on the currents of the song as several guys took notice. Hermione was a gifted dancer and not just in the more tame forms of dancing. She could dance or move to any song be it classical or metal. She had a varied taste in music that appealed to Neville who shared the open-minded taste in genres. Her eyes were closed as she continued to dance, oblivious to the stares she was being cast by several of the tux clad teenagers. She most likely knew they were there and simply opted to ignore them and leave it to their girlfriends and dates to drag the leering males away.

Neville was one of them. He was leering at her just as shamelessly as they were. It was an occupational hazard to the male gender in the presence of a girl with Hermione's alluring traits. Her hair shimmered like copper in the blue light. It glistened there for all to see in a way that made the hand tremble with need to touch it. Her lips were red like wine as he looked at her from his vantage point. She continued swaying there in the sapphire light as the air of mystery bathed over her as now did the blue lighting. Neville found his lip trembling as his eyes dared trespass over her red and moist lips. It was as though his gaze could caress her and as he continued to look upon her he found the tremor growing within him. He shook his head to clear the thought as he turned to his friends who were dancing somewhat closer than everyone else.

Ginny and Harry were swaying against one another to the same music. There was no sultriness except perhaps what was directed to their partner. Harry was far more inept a dancer then his partner. But under Ginny's guidance Harry was able to keep pace to her slow gyrations with an unsure series of movements of his own. He was slightly bashful as he continued to dance with Ginny. He was out-stepping his place in the social hierarchy by taking Ginny as her date. She rejected the offers of some of the more popular guys without even glancing back to them. Her eyes were locked to Harry's in a bond of attraction that walked the boundary of love. Perhaps given time they would find something special and real together, but that was all conjecture.

His eyes returned to Hermione and as they did he was filled with a mix of longing and envy. He was envious of Ron, envious that he was allowed to touch and caress the face of that angel. His eyes bathed her in ethereal beauty as he looked at her in a way that washed off imperfection like dirt can be washed away in a shower. He took her in with his eyes and treasured the image with all he was worth. Love doesn't have to be returned to be powerful. The nature of love itself has enough power to make unrequited love as real as any force in nature. Hermione had been dancing with Ron for some time now. Every romantic song she had flown to him and the two danced happily in the other's arms.

After several slow and a few fast dances they were now making their way back to the table. Hermione trailed behind Ron as he led her to a table near Neville. He glanced over as he debated whether he should join them or if this was some romantic thing that he was not welcome to participate in. His debate was brought to an end as Hermione waved him over. He swallowed the lump in his throat and trotted over to the table. He took a seat that was next to Hermione, though not so close that it would be obvious. She had a soft glow about her that was result of the dancing. Neville found it necessary to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep some restraint over the thoughts that were trying to commandeer his body to act themselves out.

"Neville, have you danced at least once?" Hermione groaned

"Yeah... A few times, just haven't found a girl who can match my style." he put on a broad smile of arrogance though in all reality he was lying through his teeth. Ron bought it but he had his doubts that Hermione would be thrown off the track so easily. Hermione was the one who knew him best; she knew most of his tricks and could almost instinctively tell when he was lying to her. She glanced at him with a hint of skepticism.

"Hey Neville... would you want to dance with Ginny?" she offered knowing that Ginny would happily make an effort to dance with Neville out of friendship. He chuckled in deliberation.

"Thanks but no thanks. We tried that once before... plus if I broke them apart I think Ginny would whine while Harry plots my demise... "He motioned to them as they danced.

"Well then... would you like to dance with me?" Hermione offered shyly as Neville's head spun around to look at her. She was not joking. He was speechless as he looked at her. He would love to dance with her. Not like, love. He wasn't sure how to answer that without sounding too eager or letting his hidden feelings out in the light. Luckily he was saved from the task by Ron of all people. The red head turned to Neville with a deep smile on his lips.

"That's a great idea! Hermione is always complaining that I don't dance enough of the slow songs with her. And I know how good a dancer you are. Why don't you two?" he smiled broadly as Hermione grinned to Neville.

"Come on Neville... you want to?" she offered hopefully.

"Well I guess I can't refuse... so alright." his heart was hammering in his chest as he and Hermione rose up from the table and made their way to the floor arm in arm. He knew she was just being charitable with him. Seeing him only as a charity case but by god it felt good having her hand locked to his own. He smiled nervously as he pushed through the crowd until he and Hermione were in the heart of the crashing sea of dancers that was now still as they waited for the next song.

The music started and as it did Neville noted a faster beat then many of the dancers were ready for. The song was a song meant to be danced in couples, though the beat was moving at a quicker pace. It was a song Neville didn't know though he knew he would come to like for this night alone. He would make it a point to hunt down the song's name so he could have the audio track to one of the best moments of his life. Hermione smiled at him as she took her hands to his own in a posture that matched the song's tone. They began with a simple pattern of advancing and falling back in a pattern that was clear only to them. The feel of her as she moved with him was something like poetry to him. He could feel her as she glided against him in a soft series of turns and movements that made her seem all the more poetic. Neville glided with her on a current of air that carried him. He was smiling now. Not a broad smile, but instead a soft grin that made Hermione happy in a way she couldn't really understand.

He listened to the music now as he glided against her like a pair of phantoms in the night. The male singer was vaguely familiar as he listened to the song. The words drifted with the music as a breeze through the halls of the building. It glided against Neville's ear as he continued to make a quick series of turns and movements that Hermione replied with an unspoken bond that tied them to the other. When he was younger Neville's grandmother had insisted he take dancing lessons. Neville began to understand the movements a bit better and had developed a knack for dancing. Hermione on the other hand had developed a passion for it. She was an excellent dancer who took the love she had for music to new heights with the classes she took in the muggle world.

The lyrics held a certain ironic twist with Neville as he danced with her. They were bittersweet as they flooded into his ears and to his mind. They applied to him in a way. The chorus played and Neville was divided to listening to it and dancing with Hermione. The two meshed in a strange collage.

"He's everything you want.  
He's everything you need.  
He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be.  
He says all the right things at exactly the right time.  
But he means nothing to you and you don't know why"

He ignored the similarities between the song and himself because for this moment those similarities didn't matter. He had Hermione Granger dancing with him. He had her hand in his own as he moved with her in a dance that was going faster and still holding that base rhythm and understanding shared between the two.

Hermione slid around his back and came around to take the hand which was waiting for hers. He slipped his arms around her in a move that surprised even him. His arms ended up in a hug across her mid-section and that hug was held for a moment longer then needed. He hoped she didn't notice the hesitation to let her go, but if she did she made no light of it as she continued dancing inspire of the hesitation on his part. He twirled her into his arms before dipping her. His hand caressed the small of her back as she grinned up at him while he was pulling her back.

Her eyes sparkled like rubies in sunshine as she looked up at him. There was no lack of comfort in those eyes, also there was no fear he would let her fall as she was slowly lifted up to him. The song was fading away in a melodious chord as he drew her closer to himself. She molded herself to his chest as the last lingering tone of the song faded away. She was close enough to kiss if he leaned down even the slightest inch. But the final words of the song reverberated in Neville's mind as they were in that final moment still locked in the dance.

"But I mean nothing to you and I don't know why..."

Neville let her go reluctantly and with a hint of disappointment she complied. The two were suddenly broken from the trance by the applauding of the people around them. They looked up to find themselves in a circle surrounded by applauding teens. Neville felt a hot blush on his cheek which Hermione mirrored as they glanced from the faces of the applauding crowd. Neville looked to Hermione and without even casting a thought to if Ron was waiting for them asked her if she wanted to go again. She smiled brightly as they waited for the next song. Neville felt more alive right now then he had ever felt. He could feel the heart in his chest thundering out with the chords of a base guitar. He loved her so much that this was all it took to give him a taste of true happiness. His breath was coming in soft puffs that where shallow and frantic as he continued to stare into the eyes of the girl he had been infatuated with for so long that it had solidified to an ache in his heart that never went away. Now as he stood beside the angel of his dreams with his hand in hers he was cleansed of all that pain he had endured for all this time. It may just be for a short time, as short as one more dance, but the chance to set down your load for even a day was more then he could take. He looked to her and saw her smiling at him in a way he had never seen her smile, a soft smile that had some secret behind it.

The music started with a soft outset of piano music which danced on the air like the gentlest flurry of purest snow. Neville linked arms with Hermione as his hands went to the small of her back. Her hands took hold at the base of his neck in a gentle loop. She smiled softly as the two begin to sway back and forth to the music. Hermione's grin turned into a feathery smile as she laid her head on Neville's chest. She listened to the rhythmic toll of his heart upon the backdrop of the soft piano music that was now followed by a lovely feminine voice. She felt his arms as they were now holding her. Neville was so different from Ron. Like a breath of fresh air in a smoke filled room. Ron was nice and she did love him. Though it was clear he would never have some of the things she liked best about Neville. His personality could be hard and rigid one moment, then carefree and fun-loving the next, then as a final transformation he could be tender and sensitive. He was capable of so much tenderness and compassion, so much love for everyone. Ron could be romantic, but he could never do this. He could never just hold her and sway to the music of a song they didn't know and didn't hear. Her music was the steady and rhythmic beating of the boy's heart. She allowed her eyes to slip shut as she felt his warm breath on her bare neck. She could smell the faintest hint of cologne that wafted up from the warmth of his body. It smelled earthy and rich, the slightest hint of Neville's own smell mingled with it.  
Her arms slipped from his neck to his back as they shifted position so the two were now holding one another. Hermione never thought she would feel this way about Neville from just a dance. She had feelings for him since she was young, but had assumed those feelings would go away when she let Ron into her heart. They had lessened, but were still there as she allowed her mind to drift in an endless void of all thought. She was simply responding to the feel of his skin or the gentle touch of his hair on her skin like the gliding of a feather over flesh. Her head fit so perfectly into the hollow of his neck that she was almost lulled into a blissful sleep.

"Hermione... this is really nice..." he stated softly as he kept his eyes closed.

"Yeah... it is"

"Pretty song too... do you know who sings it?" he asked softly though his words spoke far more than the question they uttered.

"No... I don't know. It is nice though. Neville... Don't say anything ok? Just keep doing this. It feels really...

"Right?" he offered.

She nodded against his chest as they listened to the song.

The two softly swayed against one another to that song. It didn't feel wrong in those arms Hermione decided. In fact it felt right. More right than anything she had touched upon in her whole life. She was wrapped within Neville's arms like a blanket. Completely safe and at home in the caress of her best friend who was so much more than a best friend.

He allowed his hand to trespass against her soft skin. As his hands wandered the smell of jasmine and rose lingering on his lips like a phantom kiss by some angel that bore its name from the heavens itself. His fingers glided against her cheek in a gentle caress that made Hermione tremble like a solitary leaf on a branch. She looked up to meet his eyes as he took her face in the palms of his hands. He softly stroked the delicate curve of her jaw line with his two thumbs as she looked up at him with a look that he could not place.

Hermione's eyes sparkled with the same beauty as the water of the bay takes when it mirrors the setting sun. How it shimmers with golds and yellows as though the water were imitating heaven. Hermione's eyes glowed as her lips pulled to a tender smile. It was their smile. It had seemed like the smile of friendship before... But now there was something different about it. A subtle change that was hard to place but unable to deny.

"Hermione... I... "His words left him as instinct took over and he lowered his lips to hers in a kiss that shook the core of his being. The song's music faded away in the last chorus as he softly missed her. Her lips were so much softer then he dreamed. His eyes were shut as he tasted her lips in a way he had dreamed in a thousand nights made pale now by this one sweet transgression. He kissed her with his whole heart as she kissed back with a gentle compliance that blossomed like a flower to enthusiasm.

Hermione was the one to elevate the kiss to open mouth and as she did she felt her knees grow weak and a thousand tiny raindrop tingles shivered through her skin which turned to gooseflesh. She moaned in the back of her throat as she felt her hands pull him all the closer to herself. She explored his mouth slowly and yet with no lack of enthusiasm. She savored that kiss as though it were cool water upon the tongue of the thirsty, or the grained sugar taste of a ripe pear on the lips of the hungry. That was what this kiss was to Hermione Granger, sustenance to the starving.

The song faded away to a soft murmur and as it did the two reluctantly broke the union of their lips. Neville allowed his eyes to open slowly afterward, only to find them gazing into the loving orbs of his dream made real. The two were suddenly broken from the dream by a hushed gasp on the part of one of the girls who was looking at them. The realization hit them and they pulled away fast enough to see the faces of many of the students who knew that Hermione was with Ron. The pang of guilt was fast to come but soon replaced by the horror as they turned to stare into the watery sapphire eyes of Ronald Weasley.

The night had grown strangely cold after the incident in the hall. It seemed to blur as the image of Neville and Ron blinded away to a mottled pool of stagnant sensation and memory. She had never felt the guilt she had felt in that moment. As she kissed Neville it was as though she were submerged in the warmest water ever to be felt upon the skin. She sank into the warmth and if had been water would have happily drowned herself within it. She would have gulped the liquid bliss as though it were sweet air. But as she sank into the warmth and as it radiated through her she was snapped back by the frigid and icy slap off guilt and pain as she looked into Ron's eyes. She hurt him and in doing that ripped herself from that world of warmth that apparently existed in his lips. It was as though you went from the warmest sunbathed beach to the most frigid pole of the arctic. He went from ecstasy to misery, fiery to frigid. The guilt burned in her like a shard of ice through the still beating heart.

He sat upon the steps in tomb like silence. He stared off into the vacant space that stretched out like a carpet. The ground was cold and grew colder by the company he bore. The trees stood at his sides like mourners with withered branches and bows held down in mock grief. The branches waved softly in the nightly air and if viewed from above would seem great fields of darkened wheat.

Ron was upon the steps which lead to the entrance facing down to the walkway that lead to Hogsmeade. The view had been so nice before, but now the well-tended autumn trees loomed forward in a gloom that seemed less from the night and more the setting. The winds wailed softly with a mournful call as they sang to the doleful rhythmic voice of the sea behind. Ron sat near a lamp which cast an ivory glow to his pale skin. His hair shimmered with gossamer light as he sat there staring out into the night air.

His face was held to a blank expression that gave Hermione absolutely no advanced warning to how he was going to respond. She clenched her teeth and walked to him.

"Hi..." she offered softly as he remained fixed on the blackened horizon.

"Hi..." he replied with a tone that conveyed the hurt he bore within. His eyes never left the landscape as he listened to her voice as it carried over the low rumble of the ocean in the distance.

"Ron I am so sorr-" she was cut off as he turned to face her with his shimmering eyes which cut into her like a shard of glass.

"You kissed... you and Neville. My friend and my girlfriend... do you know how much that hurt!? Here I was trying to be nice so I actually tell the two of you to go off and dance... God I am so bloody stupid!" he snapped and Hermione grew silent. She looked at him blankly as the icy water pooled around her.

"Did he kiss you? Or did you kiss him?"

She was silent.

"Come on Hermione; tell me Neville was the one who kissed you! I want to hear that he was the one to do that. That he forced himself on you." he implored as his eyes burned with tears he would not shed. They hung there in his eyes before freezing in the blue pools.

"I'm not going to lie to you Ron... I'm not sure who did what. It's all kind of blurred. He might have been the one to kiss me... Or I might have been the one to kiss him... But whoever kissed who... I did kiss back..." she bowed her head as she could no longer look into those eyes.

"You're in love with him now?" he almost spat.

"I don't know..." she replied softly.

"How the hell can you not know Hermione? You kissed him for Merlin's sake! You're going to tell me that may have just been between friends? Come on Hermione! You have to know!" he paused for a time as he stared blankly at her. "Do you still love me?" Hermione turned to face him and walked closer. He looked at her blankly as she put her hand to his cheek.

"I care about you Ron. And I am sure I did love you, at least at one point. But I did kiss Neville. And if we were really in love like we should have been, that wouldn't have happened. I'm so sorry Ron..."

"Yeah... so am I." he turned back to the nightly trees again. "So I guess this means we just broke up." he stated bitterly as he got up from his seat and started walking away. Hermione was only able to watch as he left her. His hair glowed silver under the faint moonlight as he faded away into the darkness. She closed her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheeks hot. "Goodbye..."

Neville breathed in the air with slow and drawn out breaths as he felt the spray from the lake on his face. He closed his eyes as he listened to the roar of the foamy waves. The waves pounded against the seawall with a suicidal drive, and as they collided exploded in an eruption of snowy foam. The water that was normally a soft blue was now painted in the night a deep and glossy black. The waters shimmered with moonlight like polished black onyx in the daylight.

Neville sat atop the seawall and looked off over the breakers to the calmed waters that flowed beyond the turbulent waters that were closer to shore. Beyond those waters there existed a strange glassy calm that remained in suspended animation as if waiting for the lull to end so they too could be stirred and revel in the breakers' abandon. That water beyond was to Neville a far off place he would never know. If the world were the sea he would be a breaker. Forever doomed to live in violence and chaos, never would he grow calm and content in the far off place that he knew to be peace. From the age of a child he had been called to arms against the evils of the Wizarding World. That war lasted years and years and though it now appeared to have calmed slightly as of late he now was crashing against the rocks of heartache. He had been born a breaker and would never be anything else.

He listened to the breakers as they crashed against the stone again and again. Each time they chorused out in a slightly different voice singing the same song as the water splashed and gurgled against the rock. The frothy tide bubbled and murmured as it swept down from the rocks below and back to the ocean where it would converge to make a new advance upon the rock.

Neville sat there holding his knees as he stared off. His heart was aching over what had happened tonight. He had likely destroyed his new friendship with Ron, and killed whatever friendship he had to Hermione. He knew his actions were stupid even before he made them, yet he was caught in the momentum of his actions and under that force kissed her. He replayed the kiss over and over again as he tried to commit it to his memory. He did all he could to remember ever last detail of her lips pressed to his. Neville tried to hold onto the magic of that moment and try as hard as humanly possible to keep that glimmer of joy alive. He knew that could not be achieved. He could never cling to a moment so deeply that he could nurse the bliss from it no matter how rich the source was. He could still taste her in his mouth and was still fighting that blush as he recalled how sweet she tasted.

Neville had done all he could to forget the pain that followed. He could face fact that Hermione had hurt her relationship because of him, and the fact that he had hurt his friendship to them both by allowing that one moment to occur. He was the cause of all this sorrow and he refused to think of it for he didn't want to deal with all that pain until absolutely necessary.

Hermione felt the throb in her chest and stomach as she ran through the night. It was over with Ron, she had lost that life, but now she had one task that needed completion. She had to make things right with Neville. She had to save what she could before all the people she loved turned away from her. Neville had been her friend since the first train ride to Hogwarts. He was always there for her when she was hurting or sad and now she knew that if she ever needed him it was now. But even as she made her way through the dark and strangely cold night she was wracked with questions. He had kissed her. Or had she kissed him? She was walking the line of madness as she contemplated what caused that kiss. She had just wanted Neville to enjoy his ball like she had been planning to. But that kiss... if it had been just some subconscious act to make Neville happy why was her heart still hammering as she thought back on the feeling of his lips pressed to her own?

He was an amazing kisser. His lips felt as indescribable as they pressed to hers in a gentle kiss. She had wanted that kiss to last forever, she wanted it again now. That was the real question she was dreading. Did she really want Neville more than Ron? Had she secretly been longing for him the whole time she was with Ron? Ron was nothing like Neville in so many really good ways. He was not as sensitive or as tender. And the kisses... they were different too. Neville was soft and loving while Ron was bubbling with passion. And as Hermione thought over the two she found herself hungering for a second kiss from her best friend.

She suspected she knew where he was. She could always find him when no one else could. Some sixth-sense to how the boy's mind worked. He would be someplace tranquil and serene. It was simply how his mind functioned when something bad had happened to him. He would seek comfort someplace reassuring. And Hermione knew him well enough to know where he would be after he left the ball in a rush.

She stepped over the uneven ground on her bare feet. She had taken her high-heel shoes off when she had to travel over the unpaved ground which was in many ways a series of hills and pitfalls. She felt the moist earth on her bare feet as she began to almost run. She turned a corner only to find the silhouetted image of Neville Longbottom against the backdrop of the crashing lake waves. He was illuminated only in the faintest whisper of moonlight which stood out against the shimmering black waters. His hair was blowing softly in the winds as she paused to stare at him. He looked sad as he sat there in a trance with the steady pulsing tide. She remained where she was so she could remain hidden for the time being. Neville looked different in that light. Less like a child and more mature. Even handsome in a way she had not before recognized in him. But on that face that bore the slightest whisper of maturity alongside the boyish good looks that Hermione had known, there was a sadness.

She stared at him for a time before his voice broke her from her trance. She took a step back in shock as he called out to her by name. He didn't look up, simply allowed his eyes to drift on the far off waters of the bay. She lowered her gaze as she slowly walked to him, and as they were no more than several feet apart he turned to face her. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she found herself caught in the soft eyes of the boy she had once called friend and now was no longer sure what to call him. He stared into her with those dark eyes that were magical in their own respect. As she stared into him her heart ached and she knew his did as well.

"Speaking to me?" he offered blankly as he looked at her soft.

"Yeah, are you speaking to me?" she grinned softly as he replied the faint smile with one of his own.

"Yeah I am..." he motioned for her to sit with him. They sat together in one of the first awkward silences the two had ever known. They were entombed in silence for what seemed like hours before Hermione spoke.

"Neville... You kissed me..." he nodded.

"Why?"

"I... used to have feelings for you. Strong feelings." he turned to look her in the eye with no levity in his expression. She held her breath as those dark eyes glided over her. "I was in love with you Hermione."

She blinked in slight shock over the realization. "You were?"

"Well I was too much of a git to tell you. But yeah I was." he smiled faintly as she smiled sadly.

"You said 'was' you aren't anymore?" she was surprised by the pain she felt at that concept.

"Well... I was more in love with the old you. You used to have your nose in a book all the time and be one of the guys. The one who challenged people and fought back when you didn't think something was right. God I loved you for that. I knew that if I ever slipped or needed help in class, you were by my side." he chuckled softly. "You had this force behind you. This love inside mixed with this passion for life and adventure. Hermione you were kind of like a hero to me. I wanted to be like you for having that strength inside and never being afraid to use it. Ever since we were kids I was trying to have just a fraction of what you had. Failing miserably, but still trying. I have always had faith that you were the strongest of us all and that I needed to be like you. I guess somewhere along the line that respect and admiration turned to love. Sometime during the war I fell in love with you. God I loved you. I saw how great you were with the first years and how hard you fought with the rest of us. How all that love and fire blended together to make you so incredible that I got a lump in my throat every time I saw you." he paused as his faint smile faded away.

"But then... after the war... you changed. Something inside of you just faded away. The fire was still there, but it was more like a glow. I don't know what changed that inside of you, but it happened so fast. All the sudden you were just like all those other girls. You played nice with everyone even when you couldn't stand them.

"You stopped fighting back when things bothered you. You just got kind of quiet and blended into the wall. I could tell it bothered you, but you didn't say anything. You just smiled and agreed with whatever you hated." Hermione's eyes were cast down as Neville demonstrated that he had noticed all the changes she had tried to make a gradual and unnoticeable change.

"It's like all the things I loved about you were taken away or pushed away. It hurt a lot to watch that but who am I to tell you how to live your life. I never loved you less, but it was like there was less to love. Like parts of you were dead and I missed them like you can miss someone who's gone. But even now after you got together with Ron and turned into this new Hermione there are moments. I can see a flash of my Hermione. Like tonight for instance, when I kissed you. I was kissing my Hermione because that moment you were so... Free. You weren't behaving for anyone. You were the girl I fell so deeply in love with. I still see that Hermione inside you." he said with a sad smile.

"Neville..." she whispered with tears in her eyes. They hung there for a moment glowing in her eyes before rolling down her cheeks. Neville smiled sadly as he lifted his hand to her cheek and whipped them away.

"You're still the most beautiful girl in the world Hermione." he spoke as his own eyes filled with tears.

"Neville... Why couldn't you have told me all this sooner?"

"The coward in me told me to keep my mouth shut? Come on Hermione. You know me better than that. I can fight Death Eaters singlehandedly but I am a complete wanker when it comes to girls." he chuckled. "Can we still be friends? I know my friendship to Ron is screwed, but can we still be friends?" he asked with the faintest whisper of hope.

"If you want to be friends that's fine with me... but there's an opening for a boyfriend if you want to try?" Neville's eyes widened lightly.

"Ron?"

"He isn't my type I guess. He's too..." she trailed off as Neville's face drew closer to her own.  
"Not you..." she smiled as he leaned in close enough to feel her breath on his lips. Neville's smile widened to the point where it looked like it would break his cheeks. Neville slipped his arms around her back as he whispered his answer to her.

"I'm in love with you Hermione."

"I'm in love with you Neville." she replied as her lips gently grazed his own. The power of the moment can never be underestimated. In one moment your life can be changed so profoundly that your universe seems to be within reach. The moment can bring an end to a lie or bring something precious to your touch. In that moment Hermione Granger leaned in to kiss Neville Longbottom once more. And just as their lips were about to meet in the second most powerful kiss of their lives the moment was shattered by a sudden downpour of cold rain.

The two broke apart in a mutual shriek of surprise from the icy rain as it poured down over them. The downpour turned the soft dirt to thick mud around their feet and turned proceeded to soak the two. Neville's hair was slicked to his face while he looked at the laughing Hermione whose perfect hair and makeup was now ruined.

"Where in Merlin's name did this come from!?" he laughed as he pulled his tuxedo jacket over his head.

"Merlin has a thing against expensive formal wear?" she offered with a giggle.

"Come on Hermione. Better get out of this before your hair is ruined beyond repair!" he laughed as he took her hand and began running for the cover of the building. Yet as his back was to Hermione he didn't catch the mischievous gleam in her eyes. With a sudden grunt she jerked his arm back and used the shocked boy's momentum in combination with that of her own body to tackle him. He landed with a thud onto the muddy earth. He cried in shock as he landed on his stomach, splashing mud all over the two of them. Hermione rolled with laughter as he looked up to her with a face saturated in brown mud.

"I'm glad you find this funny. We were in very expensive formal wear before you decided we should roll in the mud. He laughed in mock scolding as he turned so he was laying with his back in the mud. Hermione smiled as she rolled over on top of his mud-soaked tux and grinned down at him. She beamed down with a gentle grin as she wiped the mud from his face with her hand before pulling closer so she was looking down on his face.

"The great Neville Longbottom is afraid of a little mud?" she smiled down on his dirt streaked face as she lowered her lips to his own. Neville smiled against her lips as the rain poured down over them. She felt warmer in that cold rain then she had ever felt before. Neville's muddy hands snaked around her and closed around her back in a hug as he continued to kiss her gently.

She pulled back slowly as he gazed up lovingly at her. He stroked her messed up hair affectionately as she glowed down at him. "So how's this for the Hermione you knew?" she pinned him defiantly and glared down at him.

"Still able to give me a lump in my throat." he smiled as she slowly let him up to his feet. He attempted to straighten the ruined tuxedo before giving up on it in a dramatic sigh. She smiled cutely to him with a smile that made his cheeks warm. She had her perfect face streaked with dirt and she had never looked more beautiful to him. She slipped into his arms and slid her own hands over his back till they rested against the base of his neck. He smiled as his own hands made their way to her hips. Hermione looked at the boy who was covered in dirt and mud, whose hair was matted in a wet mess over his brow. She smiled broadly as she kissed him and began to dance. The two softly danced to the music of the rain on the lake and the wind blowing against their faces and through their damp hair. They loved each other both as man and woman and as one child loved another. It was a memorable dance for many reasons but for Neville it was the night he got the Hermione he loved back, and no longer just for a stolen moment.

A/N: lyrics belong to Vertical Horizon. Let me know what you think!


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